Everything about this song takes a ride in and out of my being… the music, the lyrics… his voice. Oh, his voice! It puts me in a daze… When a song can do all of that with all of those things… Look the fuck out! This is not a song review. I don’t do them. I don’t have the vocabulary to write reviews. In fact, that’s all I got.
Something so magic about you
Don’t you agree?
Tragedy and magic… what an explosion. Whew!!! A ride for sure. And that definitely describes my life. As I get older it seems like I can’t remember the magical stuff as well. I can only remember the tragic shit. I want to be that magical girl again!
Honey, you’re familiar like my mirror years ago
Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword
Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know
I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door
I’m not sure what I think when I hear that lyric… Who or what slithered into my life. Was it my disease? The men? Was it the disease that brought the men? I could go forever wondering. That wondering turns into wandering… and that ride it all takes me on perpetuates that fear of me I talked about in one of my recent posts.
I like to believe that I am the Queen of Idealism. I am the Bitch of Unrealistic Thought! Sometimes I get so lost in it… I suppose we all do.
The medicine is suppose to help that shit. But, in the end, that’s how really sick I am… takes a whole lotta that shit to help me! To stay outta the closet that I was locked in… To stay out of the back seat that he took me in… To stop me from sending those messages I sent… To keep me from sleeping with that guy… To keep the man in the black hat outta my head.
Someone commented on my last post that you can’t stay in protection mode forever that we have to move forward… or something like that. I agree, but I think everyone’s forever is different!
Sometimes I get so lost… I know that’s because I am protecting myself. I used to get very frustrated with Therapy Man because he wouldn’t help me process the things that happened to me. I thought that was going to help them go away or something. As I get older I see how there is no understanding them… no processing them… they aren’t going away. They aren’t changing. How my little girl inside of me… at least MY little girl…is not growing up and getting better. Maybe someone else’s little person can.
This is definitely a ramble. It definitely did not go where I thought it was going and I’m not sure there is an ending to it. I am lost right now in my head. Lost in the closet where my sister kept me as a three year old. Hmm… I’ve been there most of this past week – off and on of course – so that I could function like I needed to. This is a huge step forward for me. So, we can’t stay in protection mode forever. We can’t. But, I’m 48 years old. For some of us… who have worked with our disease our entire adult life – full time – we have to go into protection mode at times just to save ourselves from losing it.
There is nothing cut and dry about a disease. No disease. Cancer patients will attest to this… We do what we have to do to survive. I have been teaching school for 25 years. One year I was taking 800 mg of seroquel a day and still taught full time. That’s a fuckload of seroquel to be active on – let alone teach a class – for me anyway. But I did it because I didn’t want to give into the disease.
I’ve been bitching a lot about not giving into my disease. I’m not exactly sure why. I wonder if it’s because I am really alone for the first time… ever. I have no one to fall back on… no one to really pay attention to… to draw my attention away from myself… I’ve also been talking a lot about having to be with myself now. Which is scary.
I’m just afraid of the ride. Roller-coasters scare the shit out of me. I’m scared of the dark… I’m afraid of the creatures that are going to come seeping out… I think I’m just fucked in general!